


The Same Either Way

by TAFKAmayle



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Forced Prostitution, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27258688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TAFKAmayle/pseuds/TAFKAmayle
Summary: Rimmy Tim is a sex slave/forced prostitute that is helped out of his situation by the Fake AH Crew. In return for what he knows, he requests to have the Vagabond as his bodyguard. Ryan struggles to remain a blank-faced killer in the presence of a beautiful man coming from an ugly situation. (ASL is bolded)TW: This fic contains a Ryan Haywood character.Note about rape/non-con: All of it takes place off screen and not explicitly described. This is a fic focused on the recovery afterwards, as seen by Ryan. Though there still are a lot of implications and speculations, so please be cautious.
Comments: 46
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

"Can we fuck by the window?"

Ryan blinked at the guy for a second before gesturing toward the window. The guy brightened up and his smile was like the sun. Ryan felt a twinge of guilt in his guts as the guy went to the window, shoving aside the curtains. He looked too innocent to be in this business. Of course any time Ryan ever expressed a thought such as that, the only answer he'd get was "This is Los Santos, no one's too innocent." 

"Can I open it?" the guy asked where he was bouncing at the window.

Ryan nodded as he walked over to join him. He was surprised the window could be opened. Most hotels screwed the windows shut. He really wasn't sure if that was a sign of a good hotel or a bad one. The prostitute slid the window open and leaned out, taking a deep breath through his nose. _This isn't a willingly employed situation, is it?_ He stiffened as Ryan stepped up behind him, but gave him a little smile anyway.

"S-sorry, I got distracted," He mumbled, "Thank you, sir, for letting me open the window. How would you like me?"

Ryan found himself distracted from his mission by the man's beautiful brown eyes. He reached out and touched his cheek, caressing it gently. He was attractive. Ryan thought he would be more so if he dressed as a man. If he cut his black hair short and grew a beard. Ryan's hand moved down his neck to his chest. If he wasn't malnourished. If he was allowed to work out and bulk up his naturally wide frame. Ryan's hand slid down his abdomen around to his waist. If he wasn't totally without body hair.

He _was_ a man, wasn't he? Ryan was almost certain Geoff had called him "Tim". Well, he was still attractive. Ryan was finding trouble with keeping his hands off him. He wondered if Geoff would be mad if he fucked him first. Probably. Ryan wanted him so much he almost didn't care how morally fucked up it was. But Tim was shaking from Ryan's creepy hands and eyes on him. He was scared. That was smart of him. The skull mask was recognizable for a reason.

"Sir?" He whispered, shakily, "Y-You don't have t-to talk, but please, show me what you want."

That would be difficult to show. How to pantomime "I was sent to kill you, but I think I don't want to"? Any way Ryan sliced it, the kid didn't seem like he deserved to die. It was obvious he was forced into this life. Whatever reason Geoff had for this job, it couldn't possibly involve an unwilling prostitute. Geoff would never send him to kill this man if he saw him. Ryan moved away from him to get his creepy hands out of range, already feeling a massive amount of guilt. _I shouldn’t have touched him. I need to get laid, Jesus._ He shot a text to Geoff as he sat on the edge of the bed to wait for him. 

_To Daddy: I think a mistake has been made. You should come see the target._

Tim hesitated before leaning back out the window. He apparently decided to enjoy the fresh air while he waited for Ryan's orders. Ryan's phone buzzed.

_Daddy: Can I send one of the others?_

_To Daddy: No, it has to be you._

_Daddy: I'll be about twenty minutes._

_To Daddy: Understood._

After a few minutes, Tim carefully made his way to him. 

"Um, are we waiting for a friend of yours?" He asked quietly.

Ryan nodded. Though not for the reason Tim was likely thinking, it was the truth. Tim sat down next to him.

"Can...Can I watch TV?" he questioned hesitantly.

Ryan nodded, trying not to think about how close he was sitting. Trying not to look at his pale thighs where the edge of the skirt rested. The mask was helping create a blind spot that Tim was mostly sitting in, but Ryan could still see his legs.

"Thank you, sir!" Tim chirped.

Ryan wanted him to thank him on his knees. He had such a pretty mouth. Ryan had never realized what a creep he was before this. Tim flipped through channels, lowering the volume almost to zero as though he didn't want to disturb anyone. He didn't stay on any one channel for very long, as though he wanted to look through them all. This man was definitely being held captive by his pimp.

Ryan recalled the meetup in the parking lot wherein the pimp quickly shoved the man into Ryan's backseat. Recalled the pimp asking for the full payment ahead of time. Recalled him being very vague on the details of meeting up afterwards. He'd sent Tim with him knowing that Ryan would kill him. Or at least heavily suspecting it. He supposed that made sense. He was the Vagabond after all. Most of his interactions with people ended in their death.

_Knock, knock!_

Tim turned the TV off and put the remote back as Ryan answered the door. Geoff looked exhausted and Ryan felt a little bad for calling him out. He let him in and closed the door behind him. Tim looked shaky again as they approached him where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. His eyes were wide and focused on Geoff. He recognized him and was just as, if not more, scared of him than he was Ryan. _Interesting._ Geoff frowned at him.

"You're a man?" He questioned.

Tim fidgeted with the edge of his skirt as though he wasn't sure what the correct answer was. 

"Your pimp makes you dress like that?" Geoff tried.

Tim again seemed unable to come up with the right answer.

"What's your name?" Geoff asked, switching tactics.

"R-Rimmy...T-Tim," he answered, looking as though he was absolutely certain this was not the right answer.

"Do you know who I am?" Geoff questioned.

Tim nodded.

"And you know who my friend is?" Geoff pressed.

Tim nodded again.

"Then you know we're two very dangerous men," Geoff reasoned.

Tim swallowed, nodding shakily.

"Then you know you can answer my questions," Geoff concluded, "We won't allow any harm to come to you as long as you answer my questions truthfully."

Tim's fists squeezed and he glanced at the open window. Ryan wasn't sure if he was considering escape or if he was concerned someone might hear them.

"Then...you'll take me with you?" Tim asked, hesitantly, "After I answer your questions, you won't send me back?"

"If that's what you want," Geoff agreed, "You will be protected. We can even get you out of town if you'd like."

Tim bit his lip.

"I...want to stay with him," He requested quietly, nodding at Ryan, "If you promise _he'll_ protect me, I'll tell you everything I know."

Ryan's eyebrows raised. How bad was his pimp if he'd prefer Ryan over him? 

"Vagabond, Rimmy Tim is now under your protection," Geoff ordered, "You're his bodyguard. You are authorized to kill anyone who tries to harm him."

Ryan nodded his understanding and moved to the window to close it and draw the curtain for safety. He scanned the parking lot as Tim took a shaky breath.

"Yes, I am a man," he finally answered, "Daddy makes me dress like this to appeal to buyers. But you want to know about the job he made me do."

"So he forced you to do the job?" Geoff guessed.

Tim turned, lifting his legs onto the bed. Ryan looked over as he pulled his shirt up to show Geoff his back. It was covered in thick scars that were easily identified as made by a whip. 

"I do what daddy tells me to," He murmured, "And he told me to fetch."

He dropped his shirt and turned back around. Ryan jerked his eyes away, back to the parking lot. _I shouldn’t have looked._

"You want it back," Tim guessed, "I can tell you how to get it. But you know I can tell you a lot more than that or you wouldn't have made me a burden on your best killer."

Geoff's mustache twitched in an amused smirk.

"You're a smart man," He commented, "I think we're going to get along."

"I don't think it matters if we do," Tim muttered, "As long as I have value."

"Perhaps not," Geoff mused, "Perhaps not."

~

Ryan wasn't paid to question his orders or give his opinion, but Geoff did pay him to have his best interests in mind. This was why he bothered to contact Geoff rather than just kill the hooker. He wondered now though if perhaps he hadn't been thinking clearly. He thought perhaps he had let his downstairs brain do the thinking for him. Though he never could've expected to come back to the hotel room to find Rimmy Tim bare ass naked. 

Ryan closed the door behind him, turning his creepy eyes away from Tim's beautiful body. He looked better naked where Ryan could see with absolute certainty he was a man. Or at least had male junk. This whole situation felt transphobic to him. He wasn't sure how to act about the forced feminization. It seemed Tim didn't like the cross-dressing as he had agreed rather enthusiastically when Geoff suggested they pick him up some men's clothing. But that didn't necessarily make it okay for Ryan to think that he made a prettier man than he did a woman. Nor was it alright to try to push Tim to be what _he_ wanted him to be even if he did seem eager to go in that direction.

Ryan didn't realize Tim would be so eager he'd take a shower and wait naked for the clothing. He brought the backpack to the bed and dropped it next to Tim before moving to the mini-fridge with the food. He put it away quickly and turned back to find Tim had not gotten dressed. He was still flipping through channels on the TV. Ryan was going to go insane before he got out of this hotel room for good. The short breather he'd gotten from picking up the food and clothes from Jack in the parking lot was _not_ enough. He picked the pack up and pushed it into Tim's chest. Tim frowned up at him.

"Aren't we going to bed soon?" He questioned, "Why would I get dressed just to get undressed again?"

Ryan unzipped the bag and pulled out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. _You can't be naked around me. Protect yourself._ Tim seemed confused still, but he stood and pulled on the clothing. He looked down at the boxers, rubbing his thighs together and readjusting his junk.

"Oh, this is way better!" He proclaimed, "My dick fits way better in these. Is this what most men wear to bed?"

He looked up at Ryan who nodded. _In my experience, yes._ Tim's eyes tracked down Ryan's body.

"Is it what _you_ wear to bed?" He asked.

It was a harmless question, but Ryan still felt uncomfortable answering it. Everything about this situation was uncomfortable. Tim looked up into his eyes and seemed to recognize this was a question he wouldn't get an answer to. He shrank a bit from Ryan and retook his position on the bed. Ryan went to the chair by the window and pushed the curtain aside a bit to keep watch. It was an awkward silence filled only with the buzz of the air conditioning and the low murmur of the TV on volume level one. 

Tim began to nod off, jerking awake as he nearly fell over several times. He kept throwing glances at Ryan as well. Ryan began to connect the dots in his head. _Aren't_ _**we** _ _going to bed soon?_ Ryan sighed as he stood and moved toward him. Tim quickly turned off the TV and put the remote down. Ryan pushed his chest, flattening him on the bed.

Tim looked apprehensive as he settled back on the pillow. Ryan's eyes were drawn downward where Tim was half-hard, likely from the fear of what Ryan would do to him. It was damn tempting to show him a good time. Ryan turned off the bedside lamp and returned to the window. He made sure the curtain didn't let the streetlamp shine over Tim where he was laying. Tim was quiet, but alert for a few minutes before he turned over and curled up. He fell asleep surprisingly easy. 

Ryan was _not_ surprised when Tim had a nightmare. He was expecting it. He stood and retrieved a water bottle from the fridge and wet a rag with warm water. He crouched next to Tim as he shook and whimpered, waiting for him to wake up. 

"D-Daddy, please," he whimpered in his sleep, "I-It hurts."

Ryan wondered if his pimp was actually his father. It seemed like Tim had been in captivity for some time. Maybe since he was very young. Ryan's stomach churned as he thought about it. It was better not to speculate, he decided. Tim gasped and choked as he jerked awake. He flinched as he saw Ryan and looked like he forced himself to not to roll away. Ryan wiped the sweat off his forehead and neck before urging him to sit up and drink the water. Tim watched him in confused anxiety as he pressed the items into his hands and went back to the window. 

Tim drank some of the water before putting it on the nightstand. He pushed the rag under his long hair and sighed. 

"Sir?" He called softly.

Ryan hummed in acknowledgement. 

"Do you happen to have any hair ties?" Tim asked.

Ryan retrieved one from his jacket and brought it to him. 

"Will you...braid my hair, please, sir?" He requested quietly.

Ryan wasn't sure why this felt like a step in the wrong direction, but he almost refused. Somehow it seemed wrong to touch the man's hair. He nodded and sat beside him, gesturing for him to turn. He did so and Ryan brushed his fingers through his hair to pull it together. Tim relaxed with a sort of relieved sigh and Ryan began to braid his hair. Playing with his hair seemed to be a source of stress relief for him.

"I...am not an idiot, sir," Tim spoke up quietly, "I asked for your protection knowing what you want from me."

Ryan would have been concerned for his mental function if he hadn't gathered what Ryan wanted from him. Ryan tied the braid off and ran his hand over it. Tim took the rag off his neck laid it on the nightstand before turning to Ryan. He took Ryan's hand and pressed it to his thigh, guiding it upward. Ryan swallowed thickly. He was consenting, that made this okay, right? _Right?_ God, he wanted it to be okay. He pulled his hand away and stood back up. He wanted it to be okay, but it was not. 

Tim was consenting out of fear of what Ryan might do, not because he wanted to have sex with him. It was written all over his trembling body and his shaking hands. Written all over the way he aborted flinching every time Ryan moved toward him. Written all over the scars on his back.  


_I do what daddy tells me to._

Ryan sat by the window and changed Geoff's name in his phone. The joke felt disgusting now.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Ryan took Tim to one of the restaurants. The private room was reserved for the Fakes and Ryan made sure to lead him in through the back so he wouldn't be bothered by anyone. 

Tim hesitated when they sat and the server asked what he wanted. He looked at Ryan for guidance. Ryan tapped the menu on the table and pushed it closer to the younger man. Tim seemed to grasp the nonverbal communication and looked down at the menu. He quietly ordered scrambled eggs and bacon with orange juice. _Good, he needs protein. He looks like he's wasting away._ Ryan worried he'd drop dead at any moment from being malnourished even though he'd eaten some of the food Jack had dropped off for him.

"Can you actually talk, sir?" Tim asked suddenly while they were waiting on his food.

Ryan was surprised at this question. Most people didn't ask. Most people assumed it was a sensitive topic. He hesitated a moment before nodding. He _could_ talk, that was true. He just didn't. Not even around Geoff. Barely even when he was alone. 

"Can I ask why you don't?" Tim pressed.

Ryan didn't want to say. He glanced at the doorway of the private room. Someone could be listening too. He shook his head. 

"Do you know ASL?" Tim wondered.

Ryan nodded. Tim brightened up.

"Me too!" He chirped, "You can talk to me in sign language!"

**How?** Ryan signed at him, surprised.

"Daddy's deaf, didn't you know?" Tim answered, cocking his head slightly as if this confused him.

**I don't know him. **

Though now that he mentioned it, the pimp had asked Ryan if he talked verbally and looked almost relieved when he shook his head. 

"Oh, I guess King probably knows more about him," Tim murmured thoughtfully.

Ryan shrugged. _Do I look like I know shit about anything? Because I definitely don't._ He was glad though, really. Tim was talking, asking questions. Even forgetting to call him sir. That was something akin to progress.

"Am I going to live with you?" Tim wanted to know next.

Ryan wasn't totally sure about that. He shrugged.

"Would you be okay with it if I did?" Tim pressed.

Ryan would love for Tim to live with him. Not as a roommate, but rather a bedmate. He tried to push his creepiness from his mind. Either way, Ryan was ordered to protect him, so if he had to live with him to do so, then that was fine. He would make do. He nodded.

"Will you teach me to fight like you?" Tim requested quietly.

Ryan raised an eyebrow as he looked at him. Tim was fidgeting nervously again. He looked like this was a request he'd had violently been denied previously. It likely was, considering his stick thin body and lack of any muscle definition whatsoever. And the scars all over his arms and back. Ryan nodded. Tim brightened up, looking like the sunrise after a long, dark night of getting beaten down. _Progress._ Ryan wanted more of it.

"Here you are, miss," the server spoke, setting the plate down in front of Tim. 

"Thank you," Tim answered.

The server left as Tim picked up his fork. _You can correct people now,_ Ryan wanted to tell him. But progress wasn't a forward sprint. It was a careful shuffle, sometimes not even forward. Sometimes you had to go sideways, within your comfort zone, to find an easier path forward because not everyone could just take the first path presented to them. Tim, for now, was shuffling in his comfort zone, testing the walls of it, deciding where he could break through and where he wasn't ready. 

"I, um...was wondering..." Tim mumbled after a few minutes of silence, "Is it...could I see a doctor?"

He was staring at his plate, poking his food anxiously. Ryan nodded then knocked on the table to get him to look up and nodded again. He puffed out a relieved sigh, though he still looked anxious. Ryan wouldn't be surprised if he was anxious constantly. He pulled out his phone.

_ To Geoff: The kid would like to see a doctor. _

Tim was done eating by the time Geoff responded.

_ Geoff: Take him to the clinic in the afternoon. Gavin says he can look him over. _

_ To Geoff: Understood. _

Ryan dropped money on the table, not bothering to see the bill and recognize how outrageous his tip was. Not that they ever gave them a bill. The benefits of keeping people protected in this town, apparently. After they got into the car, he did his best to sign that they were going to the doctor later and ask if he needed anything. Tim looked hesitant.

"Could I possibly get a pack of cigarettes?" He asked, looking nervous, "It, um, calms me down."

Ryan reached over to the glovebox, ignoring the way Tim stiffened and opened it, gesturing to his own cigarettes. Tim looked relieved and reached for them, glancing at Ryan who nodded encouragingly and rolled down the windows. Ryan didn't smoke a lot, but he understood using smoking as a way to relax. He almost wanted to take off the mask to smoke with him, but thought he better not. Everyone always reacted very poorly to Ryan removing the mask. Usually with a sputtered "oh god, please don't kill me". He glanced at Tim as they drove. 

His head was laying on his arm, partially out of the window as he smoked. He looked so far away and so close at the same time. What if Ryan had tried to kill him? What if he'd pulled the gun on him? Would he have sputtered "oh god, please don't kill me" or would he have accepted his fate? The situation he was coming from, Ryan wouldn't blame him if he'd said "please and thank you" to the gun in his face. There was no way to know for sure though, because Ryan had aborted his mission before they got there. A tiny smile twitched up on Tim's face. Ryan decided it was better not to know how he felt about his mortality. And speculating would only make him more nauseous.

"Can we go for ice cream?" Tim suddenly asked, sitting up straight.

Ryan smiled and nodded. Tim smiled widely at him and Ryan was prepared to say yes to a million more requests just to see that smile. 

The ice cream shop worker though, was less than thrilled by their appearance. Looking rather shaky as they recognized the skull mask. 

"It's okay," Tim assured them, winking, "He's on protection duty today."

Ryan's eyebrows went up in surprise at Tim's boldness. Was this progress or had he always been like this and Ryan just hadn't seen it? It was true they hadn't known each other very long yet. Tim bounced in front of the glass excitedly, eyes darting all over the ice cream on the other side.

He picked what he wanted, Ryan paid, and they exited the shop. Tim requested they go to the beach, which Ryan obliged, taking him to the crew beach house. Tim sat cross-legged on the metal chair at the metal table with the big umbrella over it. Ryan sat stiffly on the other metal chair, cursing his own eyes and hubris.

The ice cream was dripping all over the place while Tim licked it. He'd picked chocolate chip cookie dough, so of course the ice cream was off-white in color. Ryan almost wondered if he was doing it on purpose, the way his tongue laved up the side of the ice cream and lapped it up off his fingers as it melted onto them.

Ryan felt creepy for watching so intently, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Tim's mouth. The paint around his eyes was running down his face he was sweating so bad. _Why did I think I could handle watching him eat a fucking ice cream cone?! I might as well have put him on his knees._

He calmed down some when Tim got to the cone and was biting instead of licking. After he washed his sticky face and hands he asked if they could watch TV, specifying that he wanted Ryan to watch with him for some reason. 

"Sir?" he mumbled.

Ryan hummed acknowledgement. 

"Will you brush my hair and braid it again?" Tim requested, "There was a brush in the bathroom."

He pulled it from the pocket of his new jacket. Ryan nodded and sat up straighter on the couch to do so. Before he could turn towards him, Tim slipped onto his lap. _You really shouldn't do this. You should be more careful around me._ Ryan felt himself too weak to push him off his lap though. He took the brush and undid the braid to start brushing his hair. Tim relaxed significantly as he brushed and Ryan felt some part of him relax as well. 

"You are very kind," Tim whispered, "I don't deserve it."

Ryan froze a moment. No one ever called him kind. Why would they when he was such a cold-hearted bastard 90% of the time? Again Ryan had to wonder just how bad Tim's life had been before if this was enough to make him think Ryan was kind. _Such insanely low standards._

"I...I'm taking advantage of your kindness, sir," Tim admitted quietly, "I've been asking for all these things knowing you would say yes because you pity me and like me. This is the only time I've gotten things I want without having someone use me for it."

Ryan squeezed his shoulder in a way he hoped was reassuring. _It's alright, you've suffered enough. I want to help you._ He finished the braid and tied it off, running his hand over it. Tim turned on his lap and looked in his eyes.

"But if you want to fuck me, I _am_ willing," He assured him, "Because I know you won't hurt me. Or at least you're really good at acting, but I would find that hard to believe considering your mask. You don't need a mask if you can act."

He looked so utterly tired as he reached out and brushed his fingers over the cheekbone of the mask. Ryan stared at him, heart pounding in his chest. _Your face is your mask, isn't it?_ Tim stared into his eyes for a long, quiet moment before slipping back off his lap and sitting beside him. He hesitated a moment before nestling into Ryan's side.

Ryan likewise hesitated before putting his arm around him and pulling him close. He had a feeling this was part of his shuffling in his comfort zone. Physical closeness, but this time without the danger or pressure. The same action, but different motivation. _The same, but different._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is hard to comment on. 😅


	3. Chapter 3

Gavin greeted Ryan outside the examination room before going inside. The nurse had already taken Tim’s vitals and left, but Ryan found himself a bit nervous with Tim out of his eyesight. He wasn't sure why. It was only a door between them. Yet it felt like if he couldn't see him, he couldn't be sure he was safe. Gavin reappeared after no more than five minutes with a pale, tight look on his face.

"You guys thought it unnecessary to tell me he's a former sex slave?!" He hissed at Ryan.

Ryan typed up a note for him.

_I assumed Geoff told you._

"No, he bloody didn't!" Gavin snapped.

Ryan winced. Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I can already tell this is going to be a nightmare," He muttered, "Fake AH is not what he needs."

Ryan knew that already. He wanted it to be different, he wanted them to be the right help for him, but they weren't. The kid needed professional psychiatrists and doctors that weren't morally ambiguous. He needed a protector that wasn't a total creep. But he wasn't going to get that. He was going to get Fake AH.

"Anyway, he asked if you could be present for the examination," Gavin moved on, "And he looked quite uncomfortable with it just being me."

Ryan nodded. That made sense actually. Ryan was his bodyguard. Gavin might do something if Ryan wasn't there. By Tim's logic anyway. Gavin wouldn't actually hurt a fly unless it insulted one of the other Fakes. Ryan followed him into the room and almost wanted to about-face when he saw Tim was in a hospital gown. Of course, this was a full physical, obviously he would be nearly naked for it. Tim brightened when he saw Ryan and smiled lightly at him. Seriously, how goddamn awful was his life that Ryan's creepy, scary presence made him happy?

Ryan sat in the provided chair for what was usually loved ones. Tim seemed to relax slightly, some of the tension in his shoulders easing up. Gavin sat in his rolling stool in front of his computer. 

"Alright, are you ready to continue?" He prompted.

Tim nodded, the light smile still on his face.

"Okay," Gavin began, "So you said you were concerned about STDs, can you tell me if you have any specific symptoms that concern you?"

"No, not really," Tim admitted, "Nothing comes to mind, anyway. I just want to be sure."

"Understandable," Gavin assured, nodding, "And you're obviously very malnourished, so that's our number one priority. Did you have any other concerns?"

"I'm missing my left kidney," Tim answered, "And my throat hurts even when it's not being used."

Gavin frowned as he typed this up.

"That _is_ concerning," He agreed, "Was the kidney a proper surgery or a back-alley one?"

"Um, I don't know exactly what you mean," Tim grunted, "But a friend of daddy's did it. It _really_ fucking hurt afterwards."

"That's back-alley for sure," Gavin concluded, "Do you have pain there or troubles with peeing?"

"No, I don't think so," Tim dismissed.

"We'll take a look anyway," Gavin assured him, "Better safe than sorry. Anything else?"

Tim shook his head and Gavin stood up. Tim stiffened at his approach, but didn't flinch. Ryan wasn't sure if that was progress or not. Gavin listened to his heart and lungs, then checked his pulse, eyes, and ears before having him open his mouth. He scowled at whatever he found there. He continued poking and prodding at Tim, touching his throat, tapping his knees, testing his grip, and a few more things Ryan wasn’t really sure about.

"You have tonsillitis, buddy," He grunted as he finally pulled away, "That'll be the pain. You should probably see a specialist because it does not look good in there. I might be able to get you an appointment before the month is out. I'll take a swab, but I think we can assume it's a bacterial infection. I can pop out some of the stones too, that ought to help a bit and I'll get you some antibiotics. Do you smoke?"

Tim nodded.

"I recommend you stop doing that immediately," Gavin informed him firmly, "Not just for this, but for your overall health as well. We can get you some help with that, some gum or patches if it's a problem."

"It's...the only thing that relaxes me," Tim murmured.

"I hate myself for even thinking this," Gavin grumbled, "But perhaps you can try vaping instead? It should be slightly less harmful to your beaten up tonsils and most people say it's about the same for the smoking aspect. In the long run, I would encourage you to quit that as well though.”

"Um, okay," Tim agreed.

"Great, now I have to talk to BrownMan about vaping," Gavin muttered, moving away from Tim, "Actually, V, why don't you text him now and see if he can pick something up for Tim?”

Ryan pulled out his phone and had to pause a moment to fully grasp the fact that he was texting Ray about getting a vape for Tim. _What the fuck is even my life right now?_ Gavin sat down and was typing away while Ryan texted Ray.

_To Batman: So I need you to pick up vape stuff? I guess?_

_Batman: I have never before in my life been so happy to receive a text from you._

_To Batman: It's not for me, asshole. It's for Rimmy Tim._

_Batman: Who the fuck is Rimmy Tim?_

Ryan had no idea what to say to that.

_To Batman: Just get something, okay?_

_Batman: Did you finally get a boyfriend?_

_To Batman: You're going to eat knife if you don't shut the fuck up._

_Batman: Jokes on you, that's my fetish._

Ryan rolled his eyes and pocketed his phone. Gavin looked over at him and grinned.

"I don't even know what he said," He chuckled, "But I can only assume it ended with "Jokes on you, that's my fetish"."

Ryan glared at him. Tim looked between them, confused.

** My friend is an asshole,  ** Ryan explained.

"Just the one friend is?" Tim snorted in disbelief. 

Ryan laughed, probably harder than necessary and Tim grinned at him. A gleeful, mischievous sort of grin. The type that took Ryan's breath away. The type that he'd do anything to see again and again. Why were all of Tim's smiles so addicting? 

"I hate to bring the mood down," Gavin spoke up, sounding actually regretful, "But I need to take a look downstairs, Tim. Are you okay with Vagabond being here for that?"

"Yes, he...I-I want him to stay," Tim answered firmly.

Ryan could understand why. Again, Gavin _wouldn't_ do anything, but in Tim's eyes, he needed Ryan there to be sure. Tim was surprisingly relaxed for this part of the exam and it was over quickly, only a flash of discomfort crossing his face when Gavin checked his prostate. Ryan wondered if it was because he was used to strange men poking around in his underwear. 

"We'll still take the tests, but I think you're clean," Gavin announced as he tossed his gloves, "And you don't appear to have any damage or anything, so that's good news."

He sat back down and typed up some more on his computer.

"So, tests, antibiotics, and some diet, exercise, and hygiene help is basically what you're looking at," He muttered, "Oh and I can get some of your tonsil stones out to help there. I think that's about it. V, I'll give you a list."

Ryan nodded. Tim fidgeted a bit, looking a bit downcast. 

"I'll pop out for a moment, you can get dressed now," Gavin instructed.

He left and Tim stood to pull his clothes back on. Ryan could see the scar where his left kidney should be now that he was looking for it. _They sold it, didn't they?_ Ryan felt queasier with each new detail he learned about Tim's situation. He jerked his eyes away. _Stop looking!_ Tim approached him after he was dressed.

"Can you redo my braid please?" He requested, "It's messed up from taking my clothes off and putting them back on."

Ryan nodded and sat up, but before he could get up to give Tim the chair, Tim sat on his lap. _Okay. So this is always going to be a lap thing now._ Ryan undid the braid and Tim gave him the brush. He relaxed as Ryan began to brush his hair, his shoulders releasing tension. Maybe he didn't need to smoke if this relaxed him too. Ryan started braiding his hair.

"I'm...sorry I'm such a burden, sir," Tim mumbled, "I know I'm causing you trouble."

Ryan was starting to see a trend in Tim's requests for getting his hair braided. Ryan squeezed his shoulder. Tim relaxed further, puffing out a sigh.

"I really don't deserve your kindness," He muttered tiredly, "Your crew's? Maybe. I'm about to be very valuable to them. But you?...I don't deserve you."

Ryan squeezed his shoulder again before finishing the braid, tying it off and running his hand over it. Tim turned in his lap again and leaned forward. His beautiful brown eyes searched Ryan's for a moment while Ryan's heart rate picked up again. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the Vagabond mask before leaning even closer, putting his lips near Ryan's ear.

"My name is Jeremy," he whispered.

Jeremy put his arms around Ryan, hugging him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

Ryan wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. _You're right, you don't deserve me, Jeremy. You deserve so much better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean a dangerous gang isn’t what a recovering former sex slave needs???


	4. Chapter 4

Ryan had Ray meet them at the beach house to give Jeremy a familiar place while meeting an unfamiliar face. He did his best to explain that Ray would be there for the vaping nonsense in ASL, which was not easy, but Jeremy seemed to understand. 

"When will I meet the other two?" He wondered.

Ryan stared blankly at him a moment.

"The other two Fakes," Jeremy explained, "Wings and Mogar. When will I meet them?"

_He knows Gavin is Golden Boy. How does he know that?_ Gavin always disguised himself. Jeremy winced.

"Oh...I wasn't supposed to know the doctor was Golden Boy, was I?" He mumbled, shrinking away from Ryan.

**It's okay, ** Ryan assured him,  **Just surprised me.**

"Oh, I guess he does always disguise himself, doesn't he?" Jeremy grunted.

He looked away a moment, frowning.

"I guess...you don't know what I know," He reasoned, "King knows, but you don't. Is it because you're not the boss?"

Ryan laughed, but nodded. _Yeah, something like that._

"Is that why you don't fuck me too?" Jeremy pressed, "Is King going to fuck me instead?"

Ryan wanted to break something at the thought. He shook his head rather firmly. Jeremy relaxed a bit. 

"Right, I've got information for him," He mumbled, "I'm safe."

Ryan wanted to point out that Geoff was also straight and in a monogamous relationship, but had a feeling that wouldn't be that reassuring to the younger man. No doubt he had had many straight married men use him. 

_Bang, bang!_

Jeremy moved so fast Ryan barely registered it as he ducked under the dining table and covered his head. He curled in on himself, whimpering. 

"V! Open up!" Michael shouted.

_What the fuck is he _ _doing here??_ Ryan hesitated between the desire to comfort Jeremy and the need to tell Michael to fuck off. 

_Bang, bang!_

Jeremy whimpered again and Ryan thought he might be starting to cry. Ryan went to the door, yanking it open and shoving Michael away from it, closing it behind him.

"What the fuck, dude?!" Michael demanded.

Ryan typed up a note.

_You need to chill out. You're too much for him._

Michael frowned and glanced at Ray who just stared blankly back.

"Don't look at me, dude," He muttered, "I don't know what's going on."

Ryan typed up a note for both of them.

_You two wait here until I come get you and don't make any more loud noises._

"Oh, he has PTSD, why didn't you say anything?" Michael grumbled.

_Because it's none of your fucking business,_ Ryan wanted to say. He turned back to go inside and found Jeremy not under the table any more. _Where did he go?_ He looked around the place before finally finding him crying in a closet, face buried in his knees and arms over his head. Ryan's heart ached as he crouched down and squeezed his shoulder. Jeremy looked up from his knees sharply, but relaxed a bit when he saw it was Ryan.

"I-It's...not p-pigs, is it?" He guessed tearfully.

Ryan shook his head. 

**M-O-G-A-R,** he spelled out. 

"O-Oh," Jeremy sniffled, "H-He's...Wh-Why's he here?"

_Probably because Ray can't drive._ Ryan shrugged.

**I can send him away, ** he offered.

"N-No, I'm okay," Jeremy assured him, wiping at his tears, "B-But why would a criminal knock like he's the-the fucking cops?!"

Ryan wished he knew that too. Michael had several times almost gotten shot for knocking like that, but he still did it. Jeremy shifted and pulled the brush from his pocket, holding it up with a hopeful look. Ryan smiled sadly and nodded, sitting down as he took the brush. By the time he tied off the braid and ran his hand over it, Jeremy had calmed down significantly. Ryan got him settled on the couch before he opened the door for Ray and Michael. 

"Yo, Tim, right?" Ray greeted as he flopped down next to Jeremy.

"Uh, y-yes," Jeremy answered, eyeing Michael as he sat on the other side of Ray, "You're BrownMan."

"Yep, I'm here to give you this," Ray grunted, retrieving the stuff from his backpack, “It might seem like a lot, but it’s not that bad.”

Ryan sat on the other side of Jeremy, watching as Ray handed over a black case. Jeremy hesitated, glancing at Ryan who nodded encouragingly. Jeremy turned on the couch to face Ray cross-legged, shuffling back so he was pressed against Ryan's leg. He opened the case and Ray started explaining how the thing worked while Ryan mostly ignored them. He had no interest in vaping and did not particularly want to know how it worked. After only a few minutes they were creating a cloud of what Ryan thought was strawberry vapor, but wasn't totally sure. 

"So who the hell are you?" Michael spoke up after a few minutes of quiet.

Ryan stiffened, turning to signal at him to shut the fuck up.

"Rimmy Tim," Jeremy answered, "Someone with a lot of information."

"Ah, okay," Michael grunted, "Must be why King's all bitchy about you. Says you're a super valuable asset. Gave me this for you."

He pulled a holster off his hip and leaned around Ray to hand it over. Jeremy hesitated.

"I'm not..." He mumbled.

_Supposed to handle guns?_ Ryan guessed. Jeremy took the gun and unholstered it to look it over. He took the gun apart and put it back together in the blink of an eye. Ryan's eyebrows went up. He wasn't allowed to have guns, but he knew how to use them, apparently. 

"Well, he told me to explain how to use it, but you look like you know what you're doing," Michael snorted, "Oh and apparently if Vagabond tires to hurt you, you have full authority to shoot him. According to King."

_That's fair._

"Vagabond's not going to hurt me," Jeremy scoffed, "He's more likely to hurt _you_ than he is me."

Michael laughed.

"Yeah, honestly, that's probably true," he agreed, "But I'm just passing along the message."

"Pass one back for me, will you?" Jeremy requested, holstering the gun and clipping it to his jeans.

"Sure, man."

"Tell him I'm joining up," Jeremy instructed.

Ryan again stiffened, this time his anxiety more for Jeremy's physical safety. Ray and Michael both raised their eyebrows.

"Dude, I like you, man," Ray muttered, "Very forward. But hey, King'll probably agree. He really likes you."

"I know," Jeremy answered plainly, "He's an idiot who likes anyone who makes him more powerful."

Ryan laughed and Jeremy threw one of his mischievous smiles over his shoulder at him. 

~

Ryan was exhausted by the time he and Jeremy made it back to his place. Likely more from the anxiety over Jeremy than from not sleeping the night before. He had not slept a lot in his life. There was just so much to worry about with Jeremy. Geoff had messaged him saying he approved of his recruitment, but it would only be official in a month's time when he was healthy and a bit trained up. This was Ryan's job, apparently. Ryan had to wonder what it was about Jeremy that was so valuable Geoff was willing to put Ryan nearly completely out of work for an entire month. Then again, Ryan wasn't paid to wonder.

"Vagabond?" Jeremy called softly.

Ryan jolted out of his tired trance where he was standing in front of his open fridge. _The hell was I doing?_ He shut the door and looked at Jeremy who was fidgeting.

"I was wondering...could I sleep with you?" He asked quietly.

_No, that's a god awful idea. That's the worst idea I've ever heard. Why would you put yourself in danger like that?_ Ryan nodded. He didn't fully grasp the fact he'd actually accepted instead of declined until Jeremy was in his bedroom, taking his clothes off. _What the fuck have I done?!_ Ryan shrugged his jacket off. _Tell him you changed your mind._ He untied his boots and kicked them off. _Tell him you can't do this and keep him safe._ He pulled his shirt over his head. Jeremy was in his underwear and t-shirt now, but he paused, looking at Ryan's bare torso. 

Ryan tensed as Jeremy came forward, hand reaching for him. His hand was somehow rougher than Ryan had imagined as it smoothed over Ryan's scars. 

"They...feel like mine," He whispered.

He pulled back and tugged his shirt over his head. Ryan hesitantly reached for him, stopping to tug his glove off. He touched the scars on Jeremy's ribs. _He's right. They do feel the same._ Jeremy looked up at him, eyes searching his.

"Will you...if you take off the mask, I won't be scared of you," He spoke quietly.

Ryan clenched his jaw. Jeremy was already reading him like a book. Ryan swallowed. _Jeremy isn't going to hurt me. Jeremy knows I won't hurt him. It's safe. It’s safe, but...I’m...ugly._ Maybe that was a good thing. If Tim saw how ugly he was, maybe his disgust would stop Ryan being so creepy. 

Still, his hand shook as he lifted it to pull off the mask. He dropped it on his jacket. Jeremy reached up and Ryan flinched, almost expecting a slap. Instead, Jeremy touched his scarred cheek lightly, brushing his thumb over the marred skin. 

"You're so beautiful," He breathed.

Ryan blinked rapidly. _What??_ Jeremy's hand slid down his jaw to his neck. His lips parted as he brushed his fingers over Ryan's throat. Ryan swallowed, trying to get his heart out of his throat and back in his chest where it belonged. Jeremy puffed out a shaky breath. 

"V-Vagabond, I..." He huffed, "I th-think I...want to have sex with you."

Ryan’s eyes flicked over Jeremy. His face was flushed, eyes dilated, no ounce of fear though his fingers trembled as they brushed down Ryan’s chest. He wasn’t scared, he was just aroused. This was proper consent, not from fear. Ryan still hesitated a moment.

He leaned down, pressing his mouth to Jeremy's as he pulled him close. He moved slowly, trying not to startle Jeremy. Apparently Jeremy was not in the mood for caution though. He gripped Ryan’s shoulders and hopped into his arms, pressing back urgently. Ryan scrambled to hold him up as his boner rubbed against Ryan's belly. He groaned into Ryan's mouth, rutting against him and Ryan moaned right back. He stumbled toward the bed, putting a hand out to brace himself as he fell over it. 

He put his hand around Jeremy's cock while he mouthed against his lips. Jeremy shuddered and mewled into his mouth. He fumbled clumsily with Ryan's belt and jeans, obviously distracted by Ryan stroking him. He was adorable like this, falling apart in Ryan's hands. Ryan groaned as he finally got his hand around him and Jeremy shuddered.

They panted heavily as they jerked each other off, both moving their hips to thrust into the others hand. Ryan came first, something that didn't surprise him and he splattered over Jeremy's torso. Ryan dipped down to put his mouth around Jeremy who barely thrust twice over his tongue before he was coming into Ryan’s throat with a quiet, drawn-out moan. Ryanswallowed quickly and fumbled with tissues to clean up Jeremy. He guided him up to his pillow and got him under the covers, tucking him in with shaking hands. He dropped his own jeans before hesitating.

"It's okay," Jeremy assured him, "I still want to sleep with you."

Ryan carefully crawled under the covers and gently pulled Jeremy to his chest, slowly to give Jeremy time to protest. He didn’t, allowing Ryan to press up behind him without complaint. Their scars rubbed together, sending a shiver up Ryan's spine. Jeremy turned, pressing his face into Ryan's chest and tucking his head under Ryan's chin. He felt so small in Ryan's arms. Ryan hoped he didn't accidentally break him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dorksssss.


	5. Chapter 5

Jeremy was shaking as Ryan combed his hair out. It was the first “work out” day. Gavin said to give him three days to get good food in him to strengthen him up a bit before starting the exercise routine. Jeremy asked Ryan to cut his hair. It was a gesture of moving forward, Ryan assumed. _Moving on._

But he was scared. No doubt his pimp would be very displeased if he cut his hair himself. Possibly he’d even gotten in trouble for it before. Ryan squeezed his shoulder and Jeremy puffed out a shaky breath.

“I’m okay,” he spoke firmly, “Please do it.”

Ryan cut his hair, short on the sides, the longer hair on the top combed to the right. It was a currently popular style among younger men. Ryan ran his fingers through it, lamenting that he wouldn’t be able to calm him down by braiding it now. Jeremy stood up to look in the mirror. 

He turned his head around, ruffling up the newly shortened hair. He grinned, then climbed up on the vanity to look closer. Ryan stepped forward, worried about him falling and Jeremy rubbed over his small amount of stubble. He tugged at his t-shirt and played with his hair. Ryan smiled fondly. _He likes it._ Jeremy pressed his hands against his face and turned to Ryan.

“I’m a man!” He announced cheerfully.

Ryan nodded, eyes trailing over Jeremy. Definitely a man. A very attractive one. Jeremy put his arms around Ryan’s neck and leaned in.

“You like this better?” He guessed, smirking.

Ryan swallowed nervously. He wasn’t sure if it was okay to answer truthfully. He leaned back a bit to talk to him.

**I do. But it doesn’t matter what I like. Do you like it?**

“Yes, I like it a lot!” Jeremy chirped, bouncing on the vanity, “This is much more comfortable. And...”

He trailed off, his brightness dimming a bit. Ryan wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he’d been about to say. He kissed Jeremy lightly, hoping that would bring some small amount of comfort. He felt so powerless against Jeremy’s burdens. He wanted to help carry them, but he knew he couldn’t. All he could do was support Jeremy while he recovered. 

**Breakfast,** he offered.

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically and wrapped himself around Ryan. Ryan blushed, holding him around the waist to carry him to the dining room. It would take a bit to get used to how physical Jeremy was. 

After breakfast, they started the exercise program Gavin had recommended. Jeremy struggled, but didn’t give up. Ryan taught him a little bit of basic self-defense. He again struggled, but didn’t give up. Then Jeremy enthusiastically kissed Ryan, yanking his jeans open. Ryan put his head between Jeremy’s thighs and jerked himself off as Jeremy’s body writhed in pleasure. 

Then they had lunch and Ryan offered to take him somewhere he wanted to go. He hesitantly requested a shooting range. Ryan obliged and Jeremy puffed blueberry vapor out the window as they drove there. He was cross-legged as always and kept brushing his hand over his new hairstyle and his stubble. He was obviously very anxious. 

Perhaps this was more of the moving on he was trying to accomplish. He wasn’t allowed to handle guns with his pimp, so he was moving on by defying this rule. Or that was Ryan’s theory. He was doing his best not to speculate, but it was very difficult not to. 

When they got there, Jeremy held his hand and Ryan wished he’d worn the mask to cover his ugly blushing. With just the makeup over his scars, his hideous scarlet face could be seen by everyone. Once they were in the stall, Ryan opened his duffel bag to let Jeremy choose what he wanted to shoot with. Jeremy plunged both arms nearly fully into the bag, excitedly taking out and playing with every gun inside. 

Ryan knew he was gross for getting a boner, but Jeremy looked like such a badass. He held guns like he’d used them his whole life, dismantled them, put them back together, praised the mods on them. And his hands ran all over them, caressing them, fucking _groping_ them. Ryan couldn’t wait to see the man he was seeing a hint of. 

He couldn’t shoot for shit though and Ryan realized it wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed to touch guns, it was that he wasn’t allowed to use them. Perhaps even only getting to touch unloaded ones. His aim was godawful and even the lowest of recoils made him stumble back. Ryan directed him into a firmer stance and did his best to sign how to aim better. 

After awhile, he started hitting the paper, Ryan thought. He squinted, struggling to see the target. Maybe it was too far back, actually. They should’ve had it closer to them. Maybe shouldn’t have used the full body silhouette either. Might’ve been overwhelming the amount of targets he had. Ryan punched the button to bring the target toward them. He struggled not to flinch as it got close enough to see. 

_ Ah. _

He wasn’t sure what exactly he was meant to do or say about this. Perhaps he should’ve instructed Jeremy to shoot at the head or the heart. He glanced at Jeremy who was staring at the paper target with a clenched jaw and a pale face. Ryan looked back at the target.

The crotch of the silhouette had so many bullet holes it had become one hole.

~

Jack wanted to meet Jeremy only a week into his recovery. Ryan wasn’t sure he was ready for it. Jeremy was cross-legged in his chair as always, knee bouncing a bit nervously. He was obviously very nervous to meet Jack and not just because Ryan was nervous. Jeremy must know about her. 

Over the course of that week, Jeremy had casually dropped knowledge on every illegal thing they did or witnessed. He knew Ryan’s official assassination count. Knew where he’d gotten each of his guns. Knew the garage Ryan took his car to was a chop shop before they went in. And he recognized people everywhere, at the grocery store, the shooting range, and just on the street. Jeremy was a database of illegal shit.

Yet he admitted he didn’t spend much time in the city, especially not walking around. So when did he have the chance to learn this stuff? Ryan purposely didn't ask because he was worried the answer might be something along the lines of "Oh, well, when this person used me, I learned the illegal things they were doing” and Ryan felt better not knowing that. 

Unfortunately, it was the first question Jack asked when she sat down.

"King says you know more than the rest of us combined," She grunted, "How?"

"Nobody bothers being careful around whores," Jeremy confirmed what Ryan suspected, "And daddy made me translate a lot of things for him, since he's deaf."

"How'd King know you knew this before meeting you?" Jack asked next.

"He saw me translating for daddy once," Jeremy answered, "Plus he knew I sometimes did jobs for daddy."

"Jobs, what kind?" Jack pressed.

"Thievery," Jeremy replied, "I'm small and flexible."

Yeah he was. Ryan almost visibly shuddered remembering how Jeremy folded in on himself when Ryan had hoisted him up on his shoulders to blow him. His knees had actually touched the wall Ryan pressed him against. 

Ryan had been a little concerned about Jeremy’s hypersexual nature, but the internet said it was normal for the sort of trauma he’d gone through. Actually, it seemed like another one of the “same, but different” situations. Jeremy seemed the most relaxed when they were being sexual. 

Ryan glanced at where Jeremy was fidgeting next to him. He was the most anxious when they were in public. It was better when he didn’t have to talk to anyone, so he was extra anxious meeting Jack. There were things that Ryan did that would relax him though that Ryan had picked up on in the last week. 

Ryan pulled one of his knives and flipped it around idly. Jeremy relaxed slightly next to him and stopped fidgeting as much as he waited for Jack who was ordering some coffee. 

"So how’s the training going?" Jack questioned after the server left, "You think you're gonna be a good fighter?"

"Not like him," Jeremy answered, gesturing at Ryan, "I need to try a different way."

Ryan frowned. _What's wrong with my way?_

"You mean you think you'd be better at a different style?" Jack guessed.

"Yes, I can't use my legs like he does," Jeremy explained, "Mine are too short and I'm not quick enough. I need to use my fists more."

"Boxing perhaps?" Jack offered, sitting up a bit straighter.

Ryan almost verbally shouted "no". Jack was a boxer. A good one. A really good one. A _scary_ good one. 

"If you wouldn't mind teaching me," Jeremy murmured, "I know you're busy."

Of course Jeremy knew she was a boxer. 

"I think I can set aside a couple hours here and there," Jack agreed, "Here, I brought you this."

She produced a phone and slid it across the table. The server arrived with the coffee.

"I'll coordinate with you two," She suggested as she poured sugar in her coffee, "And we'll find some times when we're free. I told Gavin I would ask about your health as well.”

“I’m already doing better,” Jeremy assured, “Stronger.”

“You’re following the diet Gavin gave you?” Jack pressed, taking a sip.

“Oh, um, Vagabond handles the food for me,” Jeremy admitted, glancing at Ryan.

Ryan nodded confirmation.

“Well, I can trust he’s following it then,” Jack grunted dismissively.

She asked a few more health and training questions before she took her leave. Jeremy looked at the phone. He reached for it hesitantly, glancing at Ryan. He didn’t wait for Ryan to nod though and Ryan felt a swell of pride. Progress. Jeremy was adapting quickly and Ryan was so happy to be a part of it. 

“How do I-oh, I got it,” Jeremy mumbled, tapping at the phone, “Wow, this is...amazing. It’s so bright.”

Ryan showed him how to text and call, noting that all of FAHC’s numbers were in the phone already. Then he showed him how to use the internet and download apps. Then he let him play with it while he drank his Diet Coke. His phone dinged with a message and he pulled it out.

_Unknown: I think I’m getting the hang of it._

Ryan looked over at Jeremy who hid behind his new phone, peeking over the top. Ryan‘s lips twitched into a smile.

_To J: I’m not surprised. You’re a quick learner._

Jeremy grinned at him and Ryan’s heart fluttered. He didn’t think he would ever get used to how beautiful Jeremy’s smiles were. Though he was hoping he’d see enough to try.

“Um...by the way,” Jeremy mumbled.

_J: I lied. I want to learn your way and her way of fighting. I just tried to appeal to her._

He was clearly very scared of getting in trouble for this.

_To J: That’s alright. But you don’t have to lie. You can learn whatever you want. Just let me know and I’ll do my best to make it happen._

“R-Really?” Jeremy squeaked.

Ryan nodded. Jeremy gripped his arm tightly.

“I-I wanna learn knives!” He blurted, bouncing excitedly, “Daddy always said they were useless, but I’ve seen you! You’re incredible!”

Ryan blushed crimson and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. _I’m okay._

“Really, you’re great!” Jeremy insisted, “Please, will you teach me?”

Ryan nodded and Jeremy hugged him tightly. Ryan’s heart was surely pounding against Jeremy’s chest, but he didn’t make any comment on it. He pulled back to push the Vagabond mask up and peck Ryan on the lips before putting it back in place. He smiled warmly at Ryan and Ryan’s heart was _really_ going now. _Oh boy. This is really becoming a problem, isn’t it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving onward and upward.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack teaching Jeremy to box was a source of massive amounts of anxiety for Ryan. He watched very closely, prepared to step in quickly if he needed to. He could lie and say it was because he was Jeremy’s bodyguard, but it was because he was massively protective of his crush. He constantly felt the urge to curl around Jeremy to try to block him from outside harm. 

“Yes, but be sure to keep your guard up,” Jack grunted, “Boxers are used to getting hit in the face, so it won’t stop them from countering.”

Jeremy nodded understanding as Jack had him reset. She guided his arms back in place and then put up her own. Ryan, looking from an outside perspective, suddenly realized how much better Jeremy looked than about two weeks ago when they’d met. Stronger, heavier, and steadier. His face especially had filled out and he was no longer akin to an emaciated corpse. 

Jack blocked his swing, sending one toward his guard. He ducked and slammed his fist into her guts, sending her back a step. She wheezed as she bowed over his fist and he sent a hook at her face. She stumbled sideways and he started to press her, but Ryan quickly stepped in, blocking her with his body. 

This was not new. When sparring, Jeremy would occasionally go blank-faced and extremely aggressive. Especially any moment he seemed to perceive he’d gained the upper hand. It was not surprising that he had hidden rage, but it _was_ concerning. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head and Ryan squeezed his shoulder. He looked down at his fists, uncurling and dropping them to his sides.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled.

Ryan stepped aside to let Jack talk to him.

“Alright, you reminded me of rule number one, kid,” she muttered, rubbing her jaw, “Never underestimate your opponent. Short and scrawny, but you’ve got fire behind those fists. You’re gonna be a hell of a fighter.”

Jeremy blushed, rubbing his bicep nervously.

“Th-Thank you,” he murmured.

“But there’s one thing,” Jack continued, “You gotta control the fire. You can be the hardest hitter in the world, but if you don’t have control of that fire inside you, you’ll end up hurting yourself and others.”

Jeremy nodded sheepishly.

“You know who’s best at that?” Jack muttered, “Mogar. You’re almost even with him on rage, buddy. Maybe he should be your sensei.”

Jeremy looked over at Ryan.

**I agree,** Ryan answered his questioning look, **He could help you.**

“Then I guess I’ll ask him for help,” Jeremy agreed.

“Good, but for now, let’s go back to boxing basics, yeah?” Jack suggested.

Jeremy grinned, nodding eagerly as he got his fists back up. Ryan couldn’t wait to see him on the crew. He was going to be great.

~

Michael met them at the beach house. They decided to sit at the dining table. Jeremy was sitting cross-legged on his chair and Ryan sat with him. Jeremy seemed to relax a bit as Ryan sat to his left and Michael dropped into a chair to his right.

“Here’s how we start,” he grunted, “What’re you mad about?”

Jeremy shifted a bit nervously, glancing at Ryan.

“Let me clarify, you don’t gotta tell me,” Michael explained, “Just think about it. Pull it to the front of your mind, focus on it. Don’t try to push it down.”

Jeremy nodded, looking away a moment. His jaw tightened and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’re mad,” Michael muttered, “Accept how fucking mad you are, accept that you have the right to be mad. Whatever the fuck happened to you, you have the right to be angry. Someone hurt you or something you couldn’t control happened. It okay to be fucking pissed off.”

Jeremy shifted a bit, staring down at his clenched fists. 

“Now don’t try to be the fucking bigger person or whatever,” Michael continued, “Don’t try to act like you should be fixing this. Anger isn’t fucking shameful, it’s logical. It makes sense for you to be angry. And it makes sense to use it to your advantage. It’s a resource, not hinderance.“

Jeremy nodded his understanding. 

“But the deal is, it’s not what you think,” Michael went on, “It’s the fire of pain in you that fuels you, but not because you’re just so fucking pissed off, it’s because you’re gonna do everything to stop it from happening again. The fire isn’t a weapon, it’s a shield. No one is going to fucking hurt you again, not while you still have breath.”

Jeremy nodded slowly, thoughtfully.

“So don’t imagine the fucker that hurt you,” Michael concluded, “Don’t think about resolving your pain by hurting others. Think only that you’re too strong to get hurt again. You’re gonna kick ass so no one hurts you again.”

Ryan was a bit concerned about this conversation. Seemed like Michael was encouraging Jeremy to isolate himself.

“But listen,” Michael added, leaning forward, “There’s something other than fighting that makes you strong. They’re called friends. People to fight beside and to help you when the pain gets to be too much, because believe me, sometimes it is. That doesn’t make you weak, it makes you fucking human and humans need others. We’re social creatures or whatever. Besides you don’t push people away, because you can just kick their fucking ass if they betray you.”

Jeremy smiled, nodding.

“It’s a struggle for angry people to control themselves,” Michael muttered, leaning back and crossing his arms, “Don’t beat yourself up for struggling, you’ll get there. It’s not like I got it right away. I learned this shit with time. Anyway, I have an anger management group, we meet monthly, I’ll text you the details.”

Ryan’s eyebrows raised. He hadn’t known that.

“It’s good for us fire people to work together,” Michael murmured, shrugging, “Having people who understand and all. We can help support you on your fucking journey or whatever. We’re not fucking hippies, we don’t hug and sugar-coat. We’re pretty much all criminals, so it’s real talk. And sometimes we just go beat the shit out of stuff or blow it up. I hope you join us.”

“I’d like that,” Jeremy agreed.

“Awesome,” Michael grunted, standing up, “Anyway, I got something to do. I’ll text you, buddy.”

He ruffled Jeremy’s hair and started to leave.

“Oh, almost forgot,” he threw over his shoulder, “King said to tell you Kenny Fargo’s dead. Whoever the hell that is.”

Kenny, that was the name of Jeremy’s pimp, if Ryan recalled correctly. Jeremy sat perfectly still for a moment as Michael left. Ryan didn't know what to do. He looked like he was struggling to process the information. Struggling to understand what it meant. Then tears welled up in his eyes. Ryan winced, squeezing his shoulder and Jeremy reached for him. Ryan pulled him onto his lap, holding him closely as Jeremy cried into his shoulder. Ryan was pretty sure this answered whether "daddy" was just a fetish thing.


	7. Chapter 7

Jeremy went to bed as soon as they got back to Ryan's place and he didn't get up again except to go to the bathroom. Ryan tried to stay with him some, but didn't want to crowd him too much. The next morning he brought him breakfast, but Jeremy wouldn't sit up to eat. Ryan did his best to coax him into eating, but Jeremy just stared through him like he didn't see that he was even there. Ryan tried to sign at him, but he flinched away and turned over, likely reminded of his father.

By the afternoon, Ryan was beginning to panic. What was he supposed to do? How did he help? What did Jeremy need? Whatever it was, Ryan would give it tenfold. Ryan would give his hands to see Jeremy smiling again. He couldn't remember what he did to feel better when his own piece of shit father died. He remembered reacting about the same, he remembered being confused and upset and frustrated that he was upset by his death. He had wanted to not care. He had wanted to be relieved, if anything. But he'd been upset. Maybe because his father had been his only family, maybe because there was some happy memories, maybe because he had wanted to make his father happy even if that had never been possible. 

The internet said to listen and offer support and sympathy. But Jeremy wouldn't read anything Ryan wrote and reacted badly to the sign language. Ryan needed to speak to him if he was going to get through to him. He needed to verbalize. He had to speak. He struggled, trying to continue finding other ways, but Jeremy didn't react or turned away to everything. By nighttime, Ryan resolved to talk to him. He made him some soup and set it on the nightstand then sat on the edge of the bed.

He took some deep breaths, touching Jeremy's shoulder lightly. 

"J-Jeremy, w-will you talk t-to me p-please?" He rasped, "T-Tell me what y-you n-n-need."

Jeremy sat up, staring at him in surprise. Then his eyes filled with tears and he launched into Ryan, shoving his sobbing face into his shoulder and gripping at his shirt.

"You talked for me!" He cried.

"I-I-I want t-to help," Ryan mumbled as he pulled him onto his lap, "Wh-Whatev-ever y-you need."

"I-I just-!" Jeremy sobbed, "Why do I care?? Wh-Why do I f-feel sad over th-that piece of shit?! I'm f-fucking glad he's gone, but-!"

He choked off.

"F-Family, I-I guess," Ryan offered, "E-Even if they're sh-shit."

_Mine wasn't half as bad, though._

"I-I don't want to be sad!" Jeremy shrieked, "I-I just want to be happy! I just w-want to enjoy being free!"

Ryan ran his hand through Jeremy's hair.

"Th-There's t-time for that," He assured him.

"I-I know," Jeremy sniffled, "I-I just want it to be  _now."_

"Th-That's underst-standable," Ryan muttered, "I-I'm s-sorry th-there's no easy s-solution."

Jeremy sat up, rubbing at his eyes. 

"You don't talk because you stutter," He commented.

Ryan blushed, looking away.

"S-Sound st-stup-pid," He mumbled.

"You don't," Jeremy dismissed, "Thank you for letting me hear you. I...just wanted someone to hear me too, I guess."

Ryan took his face in his hands.

"I-I w-will always l-listen," He promised.

He kissed him lightly.

"M-Me too," Jeremy returned, "I-I'll listen to you too."

Ryan's eyes flooded and he pulled Jeremy back in, holding him around the small of his back and holding his head to his shoulder.

"Y-You're h-hurting and you want t-to c-comf-fort  m-m-me??" He cried, "Wh-Why are you s-so good?"

"'M not!" Jeremy huffed, _"You_ are...I just...want to be there for you too. Everyone else can fuck off."

Ryan choked on laughter and tears. Jeremy sniffled around his own giggles. 

"Y-You're squishing me!" He squeaked after a moment.

Ryan quickly let him go. 

"S-S-Sorry," he sniffled, rubbing at his eyes.

"It's okay," Jeremy assured him, smiling softly, "I like your hugs. But you're bigger than me."

Ryan chuckled lightly, shaking his head. How could Jeremy be so amazing? Jeremy pulled back and fidgeted a bit.

“I was wondering,” he murmured, “Could we...have a funeral?”

Ryan’s eyebrows came together and he pulled out the notepad he’d taken to carrying to communicate with Jeremy more clearly. 

_I’m sorry, but I doubt there’s a body._

“No, not with a body,” Jeremy dismissed, “Or people. Just us. I want to go someplace and pour one out for him, sort of.”

_You mean more like a memorial service then. We can do that. Just tell me when and where and if you need anything for it._

Jeremy’s tensed body relaxed and he smiled.

“Thank you for being so understanding,” he whispered, eyes shining.

Ryan hesitated, looking away and tapping the pen against his pad of paper. He knew everything about Jeremy, it seemed only fair for Ryan to share something with him as well.

_My father was abusive. Nowhere near as bad as yours, but still not a good guy. When he died, I also felt quite conflicted. I won’t ever claim to understand fully, but to some degree, I do._

Jeremy hugged him tightly. Ryan held him back.

“Thank you for sharing with me,” Jeremy breathed, “It means so much that you trust me with this, Vagabond.”

“R-Ryan,” Ryan corrected quietly.

Jeremy pulled back to stare at him in surprise. 

“Ryan, thank you!” He cried, “Thank you for trusting me so much! I-I know that’s not easy for you.”

Ryan smiled weakly. _With you, everything is easier._

~

Jeremy sat on the bank of the little creek and tossed the flower into the water. He watched it drift away with a forlorn look. Ryan wondered if he did have good memories of his father. Perhaps before puberty. The thought churned his stomach and he quickly squashed his speculation.

“Ryan,” Jeremy murmured.

Ryan came closer and sat beside him. 

“I think my mother is still alive,” he spoke quietly, still watching the flower, “And I think she thinks I’m dead.”

He turned to Ryan.

**You want to find her,** Ryan guessed.

“I want to try,” Jeremy confirmed, “She may be the only family I have left.”

Ryan nodded and shot off a text to Jack asking if there’d been anything belonging to Jeremy’s father that hadn’t been destroyed. 

“Thank you,” Jeremy whispered, “I don’t know if I’ll ever stop thanking you. You do so much for me.”

**You don’t have to thank me,** Ryan assured him, **I want to help you.**

“I’ll repay all your help,” Jeremy insisted, “After I’m all trained up. I’ll be your partner.”

Ryan smiled.

**I would like that,** he admitted.

Jeremy grinned mischievously and Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. _What a dangerous man you’re turning out to be, Rimmy Tim._


	8. Chapter 8

The first anger management meeting Jeremy went to went fairly well, Ryan thought. Mostly because they’d blown up a bunch of stuff and Jeremy had laughed a lot. He also made friends, it looked like. Ryan was glad. He’d been a bit worried about Jeremy attaching himself to him and ignoring others. He wanted him to have more friends than just the creepy bodyguard. 

It was really what happened when they got home that Ryan thought might be a little concerning. Jeremy had quite suddenly pushed him up against a wall and started kissing him rather aggressively. Jeremy’s kisses were always eager and excited, this one was demanding. Something was wrong. Ryan pushed him back a bit, gripping at his wrists. 

“Wh-What’s wr-wrong?” He mumbled

Jeremy’s eyes filled with tears and his face crumpled, the mask dropping. He pressed his face into Ryan’s chest.

“H-He used me,” he murmured, “One of th-them used me.”

Ryan pulled him into a tight hug. _Tell me which one so I can remove their hands._

“H-He wasn’t b-bad or anything,” Jeremy sobbed, “I-I just-after all th-this, I’m still-I-I’ll never escape!”

Ryan didn’t know what to say. It was true, wasn’t it? No matter what, Jeremy’s life before he finally got out would never leave him. It would always be there, under the surface. Even if they moved across the country, he would still be haunted by this. 

“I...th-think y-you’re right,” Ryan admitted, “I-It’ll a-always be there. B-But y-you can st-still move-move on.”

“I-I don’t know how!” Jeremy cried, pulling back and yanking at Ryan’s jacket, “H-How do I move on?! How do I g-get better?! I-I’m so f-fucking exhausted and n-nothing’s changed!”

Ryan grunted, frowning at him. He took his hand and dragged him into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and stood Jeremy in front of the full length mirror. He poked at his fuller face, squeezed his thicker arms and waist, brushed his hand over his hair and his beard. Jeremy sniffled, wiping at his tears as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Y-You’re right,” he mumbled, “I’m...doing it. I’m moving on, I-I’m making progress. I guess...I just...I-I want to move faster.”

“Un-Underst-stand-dable,” Ryan assured him, brushing his hand through Jeremy’s hair, “But y-you’ll g-g-get the-there.”

Jeremy turned and buried his face back in Ryan’s chest. Ryan held him closely. He had three days before his first official job. Ryan wasn’t sure he was ready. But when does a person ever get to do something when they’re fully and properly ready? Ryan’s phone beeped and he debated about checking it before reluctantly doing so. If it made noise, it was a FAHC member texting him, so it might be an emergency. He frowned at his screen. Gavin was texting him.

_Human Disaster: Sighting of your mystery lady in Las Venturas a few years ago. Unlike Chicago, Boston, and Austin, it doesn’t seem like she left after a year. I think she stayed._

Ryan’s eyebrows raised. That was much closer than he’d expected.

_To Human Disaster: Thank you. Let me know if you find her._

_Human Disaster: No prob, bob._

Ryan rolled his eyes as he gently guided Jeremy away enough to show him the messages. Jeremy read them, eyebrows coming together. He looked up at Ryan.

“You...think she’s really there?” He murmured.

Ryan shrugged with a sympathetic look. _I don’t know, but it’s the best lead so far._ Jeremy gripped Ryan’s jacket and stood up on his toes to kiss him. 

“Thank you so much,” he whispered, “You’re...more than I could’ve ever imagined asking for. Beautiful, strong, kind, smart. You’re amazing.”

Ryan blushed, shaking his head.

“Y-You are,” he mumbled.

Jeremy kissed him again, hugging him around the neck and Ryan held him around his waist. He knew Jeremy could feel his pounding heart, but he was less embarrassed when he could feel Jeremy’s in return. It was almost like their hearts were hammering their rib cages trying to break free to get to each other. 

~

Jeremy was technically b team, so his first job wasn’t too intense. All he had to do was meet someone, take a package from them, and deliver it safely. Ryan hovered nearby as Jeremy greeted the man in question.

“You’re new,” the man grunted.

“Sure am,” Jeremy confirmed, “You have something for me?”

“I believe so yes,” the man snorted.

Jeremy held out the backpack and the man held out the one he was carrying. They exchanged them simultaneously and both checked inside before turning to leave. Ryan drove Jeremy to where he was supposed to deliver the bag and walked with him toward the drop location. 

“Will all my jobs be this low key?” Jeremy murmured.

**For a little while anyway,** Ryan confirmed.

“That’s good,” Jeremy muttered, puffing out a sigh, “I definitely need to ease into this.”

They stopped and he opened the clothes donation box to dump the bag inside. Ryan squeezed his shoulder.

**You’re doing great,** he assured him.

“Thank you,” Jeremy mumbled, “I really appreciate your support.”

They headed back toward the car and Ryan’s phone beeped. 

_ Human Disaster: I’ve got an address for your mystery lady. _

Ryan stopped to show Jeremy the message. Jeremy’s eyes went wide and he gripped Ryan’s arm.

“When?!” He demanded.

**Soon,** Ryan answered.

Jeremy nodded and they continued to the car. Jeremy left a trail of strawberry vapor behind them as they drove home. Ryan imagined meeting his mother was going to be a very anxious event for him. He was probably wondering if she wanted to see him. If she would love him. Ryan wondered too. _Hoped._

“Da-my father,” Jeremy suddenly spoke in the silence, “Said he told her I was dead, that no one would ever save me.”

Ryan squeezed his wrist briefly. 

“But you did!” Jeremy blurted, “Why? Why didn’t you kill me? It can’t be because you wanted me because you wouldn’t take me, even when I said yes, so why would you save me??”

Ryan pulled over and killed the engine. Jeremy was searching him with eyes desperate to understand. 

**I thought you didn’t deserve to die,** Ryan admitted, **You were obviously forced to be what you were.**

“So what??” Jeremy demanded, “I wasn’t innocent just because daddy made me fuck people! I’m guilty of plenty! You were ordered to kill me! Why would you disobey?! Why would you bother?!”

“I-I d-didn’t want t-to!” Ryan shouted.

Jeremy flinched, shrinking away from him and Ryan immediately pulled away, pressing against his door and trying to make himself as small and nonthreatening as possible.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbled, “D-Didn’t mean t-to y-y-yell.”

They were quiet a moment while Jeremy calmed down.

“Why didn’t you want to?” He murmured.

Ryan squeezed the steering wheel.

“Y-Y-You sm-miled a-at me,” he confessed, “S-So b-beaut-tiful. L-Like a s-sunrise. J-Just b-bec-cause I let y-you go t-to the w-win-d-dow.”

He sighed.

“I f-felt g-g-guilty,” he mumbled, “Th-Then I r-realized y-you were a c-cap-captive.”

They were quiet another moment and Ryan wondered just how badly he fucked up.

“You...think I’m beautiful?” Jeremy murmured.

Ryan looked over at him in surprise to find him blushing, nervously brushing his fingers through his hair. Ryan’s heart exploded in his chest and he leaned over to kiss Jeremy, one hand holding his jaw. Jeremy’s hand laid over his as they parted. Ryan pressed their foreheads together.

“Th-The most b-beau-t-tiful,” he whispered.

Jeremy’s face went redder and his eyes darted away. Ryan kissed him again. He wasn’t used to a lot of blushing from Jeremy. It was absolutely adorable on him. _I will do my best to remind you all the time of how beautiful you are._


	9. Chapter 9

Jeremy stared at the apartment building for a long time. Ryan wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that he wasn’t vaping. He wasn’t sitting cross-legged either. He looked so distant and unlike himself. _Scared, anxious, shaky._ Ryan carefully squeezed his shoulder and Jeremy shook himself awake, puffing out a breath.

“I’m ready,” he muttered.

**Are you sure?** Ryan pressed, **We can come back.**

“I’m ready,” Jeremy insisted more firmly, “Let’s go.”

They slid from Ryan’s car and started up the walkway to apartment 32. At the door, Jeremy pressed the doorbell and they waited a moment. The door opened and Ryan flinched. The woman looked nearly identical to Jeremy when Ryan first met him. Upon closer inspection, her frame was thinner, she was a tiny bit taller, she was older, and she had breasts, but there was no room for doubt. This was Jeremy’s mother. 

“Hello there, we’re looking for Miss Dooley,” Jeremy greeted her.

“That’s me,” she croaked. 

_Smoker’s lung._

“You knew Kenneth Fargo, correct?” Jeremy questioned.

The woman visibly flinched, moving slightly so the door was more in front of her.

“Maybe,” she muttered, “Who’s askin’?”

“We’re some friends of his employees,” Jeremy explained, “He recently died. We’re trying to find people who knew what he was involved in.”

“The...hookers you mean,” she murmured.

“Yes, some of them weren’t there by choice,” Jeremy answered, “So we’re trying to track down their families.”

“Jeremy, y-you’re here about Jeremy,” she whispered.

Jeremy stiffened.

“So you do know one of them?” He prompted, stepping forward.

“Yes...I...” she breathed, “I gave my son to him.”

“Gave him? Willingly?” Jeremy pressed, stepping closer.

“Yes, I...sold him to Kenny,” the woman confessed.

“Knowing what he would do to him?” Jeremy guessed.

“I owed him money,” she confirmed, “He said he’d take my baby instead of the money, if I wanted. I...didn’t know the father for sure, I was by myself. And I thought when he saw Jeremy was a boy... But...he said boys were better. They couldn’t get pregnant.”

Jeremy stumbled back, gasping and Ryan caught him around the waist. 

“H-He used to...whisper that in my ear,” Jeremy rasped, eyes wide open, “Y-You knew. You knew what he would do to me.”

He straightened up suddenly, anger twisting on his face.

“You knew!” He growled, launching towards her, “You fucking bitch! You knew!”

He tackled her to the floor, slamming his fist in her face. 

“J-Jeremy!” Ryan shouted, “D-Don’t!”

He grabbed him around the middle to haul him off her, but Jeremy drew his gun.

“J-Jeremy, no!” Ryan shrieked, grabbing for the gun.

_ Bang! _

Ryan shouted in pain as the bullet fired through his hand and into the wall. 

“Ryan!” Jeremy cried, “Wh-Why would you do that?!”

“Y-You’d n-n-never f-for-g-give y-your-s-self,” Ryan huffed.

Jeremy turned and buried his face in a Ryan’s chest. Ryan put an arm around him, panting as he twisted the gun around in his injured hand. He glared down at the unconscious woman, flashes of his own mother’s glassy blue eyes staring at him fired off in his brain. It wasn’t the exact same, but he would sacrifice his whole hand to spare Jeremy the nightmares of his dead mother’s face. He closed his burning eyes, pressing his face into Jeremy’s hair. 

“I-I’m s-sorry,” he whispered.

_This isn’t fair. Why does so much pain have to be put on him?_ Ryan pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s head, eyes closing. _I’m so sorry._

~

Jeremy was a ghost of his former self. Or maybe a ghost of who he’d been working to become. After requesting they remove his mother’s kidney, he shut down. Just powered off like a computer. He was working on autopilot it seemed. 

Ryan couldn’t get him out of the house. Couldn’t get him to really respond. He answered some questions like “are you hungry?” or “are you ready for bed?” But “are you okay?” was ignored completely. Ryan just did his best to support him and talk to him as much as possible. It was a struggle for him, with the stuttering and the fact he just wasn’t used to it. But it had helped last time, so maybe it would help this time.

They were quietly eating breakfast for the fourth day in a row when something finally changed.

“Oh my god!” Jeremy exclaimed, causing Ryan to jump a bit, “Oh my god, he wasn’t my father!”

He grabbed Ryan’s uninjured hand.

“He wasn’t my father!” He repeated, “I don’t have to use his name!”

_You never did,_ Ryan didn’t point out. He smiled encouragingly.

“Jeremy Dooley,” Jeremy whispered, looking away, “Jeremy Dooley. Jeremy Dooley.”

He squeezed Ryan’s hand tightly as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Wh-Why would she d-do that?” He mumbled, “M-Mothers are s-supposed to love their children!”

Ryan winced, rubbing his injured hand over Jeremy’s where it was death-gripping his other. Jeremy looked over at their hands. He touched the bandage on Ryan’s hand. 

“You...killed your mother...” he murmured, “Didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes,” Ryan admitted quietly.

“That’s why you stopped me,” Jeremy guessed.

“Y-Yes,” Ryan confirmed, “It’s...p-painful. I-I s-see her...I f-feel g-guilty. M-Maybe she d-deserved it, b-but st-still...”

Jeremy leaned down and pressed his lips to the bandage then laid his forehead gently against it. Ryan blushed, heart fluttering.

“Thank you,” Jeremy breathed, “For trying to spare me more pain. It’s...new to have someone protecting me, caring about me. It feels really nice.”

“I-I will a-always pr-pro-t-tect y-you,” Ryan assured him.

Jeremy looked up at him with shining eyes, tears running down his face and smiled warmly.

“The Fakes have all been so supportive,” he mused, “But none more so than you. I’m so glad I asked for your protection that night.”

“Me t-too,” Ryan admitted.

Jeremy stood up to hug Ryan and Ryan pulled him into his lap, holding him closely.

“I’m gonna be okay,” he whispered.

“Y-Yes, y-you are,” Ryan agreed.

He brushed his hand through Jeremy’s hair and kissed his temple. _You were always going to pull through. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met._

~

Ryan paced back and forth in his living room, waiting. It was nearly two months since they first met and Jeremy had his first job without him. Now that all the people who may have recognized him no longer would, all the people who may have been searching for him were taken care of, and Jeremy could fight off anyone who tried to hurt him, Jeremy was as safe as any other criminal in Los Santos. 

He didn’t need Ryan to protect him any more. Ryan was thrilled with his progress and absolutely delighted that Jeremy was the one who said it. Jeremy had said he didn’t need a bodyguard any more, that he wasn’t scared. And as far as Ryan could tell, it had been the truth. He couldn’t be happier for Jeremy. But there’s always a “but”.

Ryan was _still_ worried about not having Jeremy in his sight. This was the first time they were this far apart, for this long since the beginning. It was less that he feared for Jeremy’s safety, more that he worried that Jeremy just wouldn’t come home. That he would abandon Ryan now that he didn’t need him. 

The doorknob jiggled as Jeremy unlocked the door and Ryan puffed out a sigh of relief. He sat down on the couch, trying not to look like he was worried and waiting. Jeremy opened the door and brightened when he saw Ryan on the couch. He quickly closed and locked the door up before bounding over to hop in Ryan’s lap. Ryan tipped the white cowboy hat up, off his forehead. _That’s new._

“What do ya think?” Jeremy asked, grinning, “I think it suits me.”

He winked and Ryan nodded his agreement, smiling back.

“Hey, I saw this really pretty car!” Jeremy exclaimed, bouncing on Ryan’s lap, “I wanna get one like it! Can I learn-? I-I mean, I’m _going_ to learn to drive. Do you think you could teach me?”

Ryan nodded, smiling up at him. He was so proud of Jeremy’s progress. So happy to be there to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is the last chapter. 😅


	10. Chapter 10

Ryan had been back to work about two months when Geoff brought up the idea of Jeremy moving to main crew. Four months of recovery and three months of working seemed a bit fast to Ryan, but then again, none of the rest of the main crew had been on b team first. They’d all gotten hired basically directly onto main crew. So technically it was slow for Jeremy’s promotion. Still, Ryan worried it was too fast.

“Ryan, how did you pick the Vagabond character?” Jeremy suddenly asked as they ate dinner.

Ryan tapped his fork against his plate, looking down at his dinner, hesitating. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Jeremy assured him.

“D-Didn’t...th-think,” Ryan mumbled, “J-Just need a m-mask. Th-Then I...s-saw it. St-Staring. Th-Thought it c-could s-see me. Th-Thought m-maybe I c-could s-see th-through it.”

He set his fork down gently.

“An-And V-Vaga-b-bond m-means h-home-l-less,” he added quietly, “It j-just...f-fit. I l-looked in-in a m-mirror and it j-just f-f-fit.”

Jeremy reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Well, Vagabond may not have a home,” he muttered, “But _Ryan_ does.”

He smiled warmly at Ryan and Ryan blushed, looking away. 

“I was just wondering because I gotta make up something for Rimmy Tim,” Jeremy snorted, “I feel like I’m going to blend into the shadows next to the rest of you. You all have such noticeable characters.”

He sighed, stabbing at his dinner with his fork.

“I...don’t want to be small,” he spoke quietly, “Being small, it...it means people can dismiss me...I don’t want to be shoved in a corner and ignored any more.”

He looked very tired and Ryan squeezed his shoulder. 

**You will figure something out,** Ryan assured him, **Something that will make you stand out.**

Jeremy smiled weakly and nodded.

~

“Blimey, who the hell is that?” Gavin grunted, pushing up his sunglasses.

“Rimmy Tim, pleased to meet you, Golden Boy,” Jeremy greeted, taking off his white hat and bowing his head.

Gavin’s eyes went wide and his mask shifted like his jaw had dropped.

“No way in shit,” Ray spoke up, “The little guy I taught how to use a vape??”

“Yes and no,” Jeremy mused, “I’m someone else now, but that little guy is still a part of me.”

Ryan smiled at him, warm fondness pulsing in his chest. He wasn’t sure why he ever doubted Jeremy was ready. He brushed some of the newly purple hair off Jeremy’s temple. Jeremy grinned at him.

“So you _do_ like the color?” He teased, “I thought you said orange was better?”

“It is-is,” Ryan snorted, “Sh-Should get b-both.”

“You just want to dye it again ‘cause you like playing with my hair,” Jeremy laughed.

Ryan brushed his hand through it, shrugging.

”M-Maybe a l-little,” he mused.

“What the fuck?” Michael demanded, “What the fuck?!”

Ryan froze, eyes widening and Jeremy winced. He took Ryan’s hand.

“It’s okay, you’re alright,” he assured him, stepping closer, “Hey, look at me. You’re okay. They’re not gonna make fun of you, okay? Because if they do, I’ll blast their brains out of their skulls.”

He growled the last part, throwing a glare at the others.

“What, make fun of what a dork he is about his boyfriend?” Jack spoke up, “Because that was fucking adorable.”

Ryan blushed, burying his face in Jeremy’s shoulder. 

“This is possibly the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” Ray muttered blandly.

Then he proceeded to gag loudly while Ryan flipped him off. 

“The cowboy and the vagabond,” Geoff snorted, “Sounds like a romance novel.”

“Tsk, cowboys were ranchers, cattle herders,” Jeremy scoffed.

He flipped his hat in his hand and put it back on his head.

_“I_ am an outlaw,” he corrected, as he swiped his fingers over the brim.

He grinned that heart-stopping mischievous grin and winked. The others laughed and started filing toward their respective vehicles. 

“Well, come on, partner,” Jeremy teased, holding out his hand, “Let’s not fall behind.”

Ryan took Jeremy’s hand. He was already doing so well, mere months after finally getting out of that hell. He was fucking amazing and Ryan wanted to see more. Wanted to see more of Jeremy’s transformation, his progress, and his happiness. Ryan smiled. 

_Whatever dusty trail you wander, Jeremy Dooley, this vagabond will follow._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end of another fic. This fic was very therapeutic for me. I’m glad I wrote it. Thank you to everyone who read and commented. I really put a lot of myself into Jeremy’s character, so seeing you guys reacting positively toward him was very touching. I really appreciate all of you so much, you really keep me going in difficult times. ❤️  
> Anyway, as always follow me @1stworldmutant to find out how to donate to get chapters a day early and read exclusive drafts. May your paths stay lit, little stars~✨!


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